you are confined (only by the walls you build yourself)
by Kuruoshi
Summary: It's easy to appear cold, even if you're not - obviously, it's also easy to keep others far away by doing that. It suits you just fine; you deserve it after all. Murdering your own brother is one of the greatest sins you have committed - no, the greatest. This is nothing compared to that. (Hanzo always was bad at lying to himself.) Also posted on AO3 under @owartsynox
1. Chapter 1

Title: you are confined (only by the walls you create yourself)  
Rating: Mature  
Pairings: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, mentioned Genji Shimada/Tekhartha Zenyatta  
Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Implied Self-Harm, Self-Esteem Issues, Minor Character Death, Slow Romance, Sexual Content. Through the whole story.  
Summary: It's easy to appear cold, even if you're not — obviously, it's also easy to keep others far away by doing that. It suits you just fine; you deserve it after all. Murdering your own brother is one of the greatest sins you have committed — no, the greatest. This is nothing compared to that.  
(Hanzo always was bad at lying to himself.)  
Also posted on AO3 under owartsynox  
A/N: Kind of a vent fic I started ~four months ago, but only now got back into to edit and continue. Due to messing my stuff up, I had to repost this and I'm sorry for the problems it may have caused! English isn't my native language.

* * *

The streets were silent and still tonight.

She couldn't spot any movement or sound — though that wasn't a surprise at this hour, was it? The moon was high on the sky and the starts bright; no normal, upstanding citizen would be up at this point of the night and even if they were, they would not find their way here. Who would _dare_ to venture on the so-called "bad side of the town" during the night, alone? Even during the day, people avoided this place. Too afraid of the consequences of even looking here and it was just so much _easier_ to ignore, so much safer —

There. A whisper of a movement, a stray shadow; rustle of cloth and with everything else quiet, as loud as a shout. She lifted her gaze, cursing silently — no one else was supposed to be here tonight.

His steps are silent as he arrives and she can't spot any unnecessary movement from him; just by looking at him, she can see that he is a force to be reckoned with. He moves with control, every step and breath measured, and she realizes he has been trained for this — the thought brings the familiar feeling of panic in her veins, and absently she wonders if this was a setup. There can be no other explanation; a _test,_ to ensure she wouldn't be like the others, a failure? She tightens her hand around the hilt of a blade, trying to keep it out of sight even when the moonlight reflects on it.

"Why are you here?", she voices, trying to stall for time. Someone would have noticed she hadn't reported back in a while even if if was her fault for being distracted by the pure stillness of the night — someone would come, right? As the man lifts his arms and draws something tighter, she realizes that if this was a setup.. No one would come. The sight of the weapon drawn makes her freeze, but not for the normal reasons people usually froze at weapons (she had, after all, been surrounded by them for her whole life); it's a _bow._ There is only one man who would use a bow here.

"Shima—", her words never finish, blocked by the blood in her mouth as the now useless knife falls out of her grip with a resounding _clatter_ ; she weakly lifts her hand to her chest, hesitantly touching the blood on her clothes before she presses harder in an attempt to keep it inside herself as she falls to her knees. Shimada comes closer, fully out of the shadows, bow lax in his hand; his expression is mild, but his eyes.. Regretful. Even though she doesn't want to, she understands, for even a ruthless murderer would doubt themselves when killing a child, wouldn't they?

"Thank you", she says instead of asking the question that burns her tongue — or perhaps it was the bitter feeling of defeat, the iron taste of her own blood. Truly, it was a blessing; she would take death over the horrors she faced in the gang, any day, even while she usually acted otherwise. She didn't have the power, the right _determination_ , to do it herself though the sadness in his eyes does make her feel regretful as well — but she used others, as they used her, and wouldn't let it stop her from being free.

"Be in peace", Hanzo Shimada whispers, trying to honor at least the silence that had fallen on the alleyway; he kneels just as the teenager sways, catching her with his free hand. Lowering his bow onto the ground, he turns the girl in his hands to a more comfortable position; she makes a noise, gesturing weakly at the blood that sticks to his clothes and he feels the slightly morbid feeling of wanting to laugh at that — instead, he shakes his head. She does laugh at that, shakily, before raising her hazy eyes towards the sky; for a second, he wishes he could clear the sky of clouds, so her final sight would be of the so-called freedom of a night sky. He stops the thought before it can fully form, because he cannot afford to think like that; he can't regret it and even this moment is too much to allow. Instead of actually doing anything about it, he stays with the girl until her eyes slip close and her breathing stops with his father's disappointed words lingering in his mind — with a sigh, he collects his bow from the ground after lowering the child onto the ground with a considering look around him, but in the end he leaves in order to stop his eyes from strafing towards the body once more. He feels like he should be angry at himself for letting this distract him (his father certainly would be, if he knew) but instead he feels hollow, when he turns sharply back to tug the arrow out of her chest. He doesn't clean the blood out, just stores it into his quiver — he would rather remember this _wrongness,_ than forget about it, and while he knows he will be in trouble for it.. it makes him more human than he feels. Steeling himself once more, the Shimada Heir selects a clean arrow, before stepping out of the alleyway.

* * *

He jerks awake violently, brandishing the knife from under his pillow against someone's throat; the person doesn't move, but he doesn't freeze either which gives him the distinctive feeling that they are used to these kind of situations — he files the information away for later use, before fully even registering what is _actually_ going on. When the archer recognizes the person leaning over him, trying to wake him up, he flips the knife's edge away from their throat. His brother's unblinking mask stares at him for a while in silence, before nimble fingers rise to click the sides to get the face-plate away. He can't see his brother completely in this light, but he can easily enough read the concern in his body language — even if Genji's body is different now (because of _him_ , his own mistakes), it is still his brother; he has always been able to read the cyborg in their childhood and few years apart somehow hasn't changed that. Of course, he had to adapt to new quirks and the.. construct of his body, but in response Genji had needed to get used to Hanzo's own changes.

"I'm alright", Hanzo promises before his brother can even ask. For a few seconds Genji just sits there in silence, no doubt assessing him (for he is not the only one who can read their brother), before nodding slowly in acceptance — he knows his brother noticed the slight wordplay and he's grateful the man doesn't comment on it.

"We have a mission", is what he says instead, which makes the former Shimada heir blink in surprise; it's midnight and while he is used to missions in the middle of the night (as is his brother, which is why they both have been called, no doubt), Overwatch hardly sends anyone out at this hour. Rather than question it, he waves Genji away while getting up, dropping the knife on top of his pillow. He has a job to do and no matter what people say about him, he respects Overwatch enough to be quick about it.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Hanzo feels like he should regret joining Overwatch — no matter how unofficial their partnership was. He had gotten ready for a shady mission, at the worst an assassination; what else would they need the cover of night for? And, considering his upbringing and skills, he was suited for those missions and so was his brother, if one ignored his sudden _Zen_. (The pun is intended, though if one asked, he would never admit that. His brother had obviously influenced him too much.)

"Are our skills really needed for a rescue mission, of all things?", he knew he might have sounded arrogant, but he also knew he didn't need to think about wording to properly express himself while speaking to his brother; Genji had an uncanny ability to always know what he meant, no matter what he said. It was freeing, in a way, to have at least one person in his life for whom he didn't need to try and censor himself; he cherishes that feeling, even if he didn't speak to Genji as often as he felt like he should. It was hard to forgive oneself after committing a sin like his —

"Are you doubting yourself, _anija_? That is unusual", the cyborg answered with look thrown over his shoulder and while he had his face-plate on again, Hanzo _knew_ the other man was smirking at him. Clicking his tongue in slight irritation, he raises his eyebrows at the sudden change in language, but doesn't protest to speaking in his mother tongue. Knowing Genji, there could be a missing piece of information he hadn't been given earlier and the man was just playing it safe, even though they were technically still in safe soil. _Well, at least the mission got a little more interesting._ Schooling his expression to a smoother one, he gestured for his brother to continue with one hand, still trying to fasten a thigh holster of all things with his left one. (Genji, for some reason, had insisted he start carrying blades to mission. He refused to touch a sword, so his brother had compromised and gotten him throwing knives — weirdly, it was touching.)

"Truthfully, it appears we are the only ones able to do it, this time", Genji continued, pushing him inside a stealth copter; making a face of distaste at his brother (which was ignored), he sat down on one of the seats. _Either he's actually learnt to keep his teasing to himself, or this is critical enough for him to get serious._

"You know Agent McCree? He's the one in need of rescuing", it felt like his brother wanted to add something along the lines of _of course he is_ (so, it was the latter then) to that, but something held him back. While the cyborg was getting the copter online, he settled down into a comfortable position while pulling up his mental list of the agents he had made background checks on — he knew Agent McCree; knew of his skills, though not much. While he did still have his habit of doing research of everyone, not caring if they were allies or not, he knew enough about this so-called cowboy to respect his privacy. _Genji considering him his friend has absolute nothing to do with that._ Jesse McCree, 37, formerly of Deadlock Gang and a known bounty hunter; uses a revolver he has named Peacekeeper and is a deadly accurate shot. Twice he had felt getting McCree to try out a bow, but he had refrained from saying so.

"Has he been captured or are they just aware of him?", Hanzo asks, lurching forwards slightly as the copter launches itself off of the pad — Genji switches to automatic control, before turning to face him. He decides not to say anything about that.

"It wasn't specified. He sent out a distress signal, but from what I know of Jesse.. They're already aware of him, but haven't just captured him", the agent answer with a flippant tone, but Hanzo can read the tension in him; Genji is worrying, which means he should be worried, too — he knows both were in Blackwatch, from Genji himself, so the other one would have more knowledge of McCree's skills. It annoyed him, the lack of information (if they sent someone to scope out the enemy, it was probably safe to assume they knew nothing about them), and he clicked his tongue once again; he had never liked to work with minimal information but he had no choice here. If he did nothing, an Agent would die, and no matter how much shit he got from others because of his personality and former sins, he cared about them as allies, if not people. (How hypocritical of them to judge him for his sins; everyone had done mistakes in Overwatch, no matter what kind.)

"Usual tactics, then?", the archer asks, letting his adrenaline show up in the form of a smirk on his lips. His brother, though, he _laughs_ out loud in delight; taking that as the approval it is, he settles down to recharge his stamina.


	2. Chapter 2

When the stealth copter sets down in the middle of the forest, Hanzo immediately gets a bad feeling; he deems it safer to not voice it, seeing that Genji is already keyed up, and just gets out of the copter and makes his way towards the base in silence. Genji departs in the other but he doesn't worry — they had established the use of their usual tactics, after all, the ones learned and used since their childhood. While they haven't used them since the.. incident, they are still fresh in their minds; their father had made sure of that. (For all he had loved his father, Hanzo was aware he had had his faults. Now, he they were even more clear, when he wasn't blinded by the obligations to obey every word.) Stopping behind a tree to flip one of the knives out of his thigh holster, the archer considers using his arrows, as he ventures closer to the lone guard at the door, rather pettily — he's aware that they would give his position away quickly, and that is the only reason he doesn't curse Overwatch for sending on this mission when blood hits his face as he tugs the blade out of the victim. Even if he could be considered a murderer (honestly, many probably _do_ think that), he doesn't enjoy killing and enjoys blood even less. Absently wiping the blood from his knife on the clothes of the body, he turns to look at the wall with a thoughtful look; while it would be safer to scale it, he still doesn't have information about the enemy's guard rotations or if they even have those at all. He wastes a few minutes arguing about it with himself, before he flips the knife back into his thigh holster and scales the wall — what he doesn't expect, while he _had_ considered the possibility is for there to actually be a guard rotation going on right this exact second. In his surprise (he hadn't even heard them, which was.. unusual) one of the men catches him hesitating on the ledge; before he can voice his alarm, Hanzo reaches to grab his ankle and drag him over the edge. (He doesn't listen to the crunch the body makes it as it hits the ground — he _doesn't_. Even if he appears emotionless in the face of death, he isn't.) 

* * *

Considering the rotation just happened, Hanzo deems it safe enough to linger on the roof. He briefly checks it for traps and further security, before concentrating on the ceiling windows as he comes up empty-handed. He has never understood the need for windows in storage halls, but who is he to complain in this situation? It makes his mission of searching for the missing Agent more easy — even more so, since the inside of the storage is bathed in light. There doesn't seem to much in there, which possibly means it's a recent base or they were just in the middle of abandoning it. He can't see Genji, either, which means he has been held up or encountered an obstacle of some sort; and while he does worry, if only slightly (he is aware of his brother's capabilities), the men inside wouldn't be so calm if the cyborg had been captured.

" _Shit_ ", the curse slips from the archer before he can silence himself; good news is that he's found Agent McCree, but the bad is that the so-called cowboy has been captured. Obviously a recent development since he doesn't even look uncomfortable and the men weren't prepared for it — at least, he hopes they weren't prepared. Who would think a wooden chair and some _rope_ would hold an Agent of Overwatch for long? It's terribly cliche, too. Since it looks like the man isn't in over bearing pain yet, despite the bruising, he takes time to fully check the environment; two metal bars near the ceiling and a bolted down shelf are the only things he could use to his advantage right now — there is also some cover in the form of a couple metal boxes, but that's about it. Which means he has to get a sniping position on either the bars or the shelf and hope he can get a couple of good shots in before he is noticed; when he is, he needs to either switch to close combat or stay behind the metal boxes, where his position could be easily compromised. _I could go in without Genji, but with him I'd have a better chance of success.._

The feeling he should regret joining Overwatch comes over him again, when one of the men points a gun at McCree's head; no time to wait then. One arrow slips free from his quiver before he stops — with a click of his tongue, he tries to adjust his plans of stealth to accommodate to the sound the windows breaking would make, but it was probably already too late to adjust to that. _Time to improvise, then. Genji is better at than I am._ Adjusting the arrow on his bow, Hanzo takes a couple steps backwards and mentally calculates the distance between the window and the bars, before running towards it and jumping through it; a grimace tilts his lips downwards when a few of the brojen shards cut his cheek and arms, but he doesn't let it distract him from aiming an shooting at the man closest to McCree. The man hadn't turned at the sound of glass shattering, apparently more concerned with the captured Agent, so he doesn't dodge the arrow now lodged into his neck. Not quite the head shot he had been trying for, but he could live with the result. _One_. Balancing on the bar, he sways slightly before drawing another arrow and nocking it; he aims at the enemy diving for the gun that had been dropped and with a slow exhale he releases it. _Two_. A gunshot makes him duck automatically before he scoffs and jumps onto the shelf — though it is meant for storage, it apparently isn't made for holding a human since it feels uncomfortably flimsy, so he doesn't stay for long and just hastily climbs down, taking cover behind the nearest metal crate.

"Drop the weapon and come out, or we'll shoot the cowboy!", one of the men yells. Briefly, he considers refusing, but from his position he can't see McCree and thus can't be sure if they'll actually threaten his life or not; as so, he throws his bow with a dissatisfied look flashing through his eyes over the crate and unfastens his quiver, placing it on top of it. He waits a couple of minutes, before slowly getting up and away from the crate, holding his hands at chest level, palms open — he prays to a deity he doesn't believe in that they don't notice his thigh holster. _The dragons would wreck too much havoc here to call upon._

"Good, now get here", the same man orders and while it honestly _pisses him off_ , he says nothing and keeps his expression painfully neutral while walking with measured steps towards the three remaining enemies. His eyes search the gaze of the other captured Agent and when he finds the other man looking at him, he tilts his head slightly with a raised eyebrow as if asking _Really?_ When he gets close enough, he focuses his attention back to the ones trying to capture them and when they lower their handguns (not automatic, then, which is a relief) he almost snorts. _I was right, then. Amateurs._ From this close he can see they've gagged McCree with a cloth and somehow that gives him the idea that the cowboy had been running his mouth — considering he's apparently good friends with his brother, it's more likely than not. _Alright. Improvisation. I hate playing risky.  
_ As the men turn back towards the Agent, apparently deeming him a smaller threat since he isn't visibly armed, he grabs the closest man by the shoulder and pulls him towards himself while flipping a knife with his free hand out of his thigh holster; he stabs it at the man's throat, but this time doesn't pull it out. _Three._ He just flips another out to throw it at a second's chest, who had turned hastily to look at them when the first victim gurgled. _Four_. The man releases his hold on the handgun in surprise which he bends down to grab — when he rises, he points it at the remaining one of the five, who is also pointing his own at his forehead.  
"Are you sure you want to do that?", Hanzo asks in a low tone, keeping his expression still; he knows how he looks, covered in blood and holding a gun — he _knows_ , because he has seen it and the sight somehow haunts even _him_ so much that it feel's like that is all he will ever see. When the man hesitates, apparently taking his words as an ominous threat of backup (which, yes, they did have), he pulls the trigger while taking a dodge to the left in case the man pulls his own too — he doesn't, and somehow that makes him feel even worse. 

* * *

"Can you walk?", Hanzo asks after dropping the gun to the ground with it's safety turned on; he doesn't wait for an answer he wont get before he gets the makeshift gag out of McCree. He absently flips another knife out of his holster and circles around the bigger man, cutting the gag and restrains away as he stops. Pausing for a minute, he eyes the bruises around the Agent's wrists, before storing the knife and turning towards his bow and quiver.  
"'Course I can" was the gruff answer given to him and the archer had to hide a smirk — he wasn't the only one to notice the amateurish movements of the enemy, then. Who would turn their backs and attention away even when they had gotten a hold of the enemy? Even more so when the enemy wasn't bound and secured? _Amateurs_. He slings the quiver to his back, straps it close, before checking his bow for any flaws; when he sees nothing needing immediate attention, he turns towards McCree and gestures him to follow when he directs his steps towards the door — he had killed the man guarding it earlier, so it _should_ be safe to exit through it at least for now. It irked him, that he couldn't go search for Genji, but with no information about the base and no way to contact his brother, he couldn't risk it.  
"Then we're moving out. Genji will meet us at the transport", he explains, already on the process of moving through familiar doesn't mention how there were no plans for _that_ (since they were supposed to engage the enemy together) and just hopes; neither does he mention the fact that McCree had obviously lost _Peacekeeper_ somewhere along the way. The Agent doesn't either, though surely it must sting — while he knows it should be around here somewhere, they don't have the time to search for it. The other man knows it too.


End file.
